The Distance Between Us (Book Two ✓)

twenty-three

EMMA

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The little wall clock Nadine gave to me is the only sound in my condo, mocking me with each moment that passes.

It's not like I stopped everything to wait for his call, I lie internally, eyeing the basket of laundry, still unfolded at my feet. The TV is off, I didn't turn on music as I normally would, and the book I tried to start last night lies discarded on the ottoman. My eyes flicker to the clock again, each minute taking an hour to pass, and yet, somehow still pushing forward.

Another sixty seconds go by and my hope fades - a moron would've given up hope after the hour and a half mark, but here I am, cell phone clutched in hand, expecting it to vibrate to life at any moment.

Concern ebbs at the corner of my mind: I'm not sure there will ever be a day when at least some part of me is not worried for Beau Lewis. And yet, my eyes flash to the hands crawling around the clock, I'm also wildly disappointed.

In him, and in me.

Picking up my cell, I dial Gemma's number, knowing deep down that waiting won't make him call.

"Hey Emmie baby," Gemma's voice is softer than normal. "How'd it go?"

I flinch, cursing myself for admitting I would be confronting Beau tonight. It had been a moment of weakness - a tipsy thought shared in front of the bathroom mirror at the club. I'd learned long ago that I shouldn't reveal when things are bad with Beau - at least not until I've already made them better.

It doesn't paint Beau in the best light - and deep down, I still really want Gem and Nadine to like him.

Feigning nonchalance, I sigh, "He didn't call. It's been," I check the clock as if I haven't been counting the minutes, "Over an hour and nothing. Do you want to go out tonight?"

That would be the second night in a row - very unlike me. I glare at the emptiness of my condo, knowing staying at the lake house wouldn't have been any better. Without him here, it feels lonely. Just like my apartment had before.

"Oh, Emma." Gemma sounds sad but I ignore it, refusing to perseverate on the hurt lying just under the surface.

"Same place as last night?" I ask, already in my bedroom, scouring my closet for an outfit to wear.

"Meet you there in an hour,"

We hang up and I pull my outfit on quickly - a simple band tank top that Beau let me borrow, tucked into ripped jeans. I wrap my arms around my torso, tugging the fabric tightly over my skin, inhaling the last bit of Beau's smell. Staring at myself in the mirror, I suddenly lose grasp of the focus I'd been trying so hard to maintain. Tears well in my eyes as I take in my reflection and wonder if Beau and I will ever really work.

Sniffling, I continue getting ready, pulling my blonde strands into a bun atop my head, and suddenly remember the shaved buzz cut Rey wore so well. I recall her tattoos and the hoop in her nose, the sway of her hips when she walks. Her voice when she sings, the way she and Beau seem to understand each other so well... The way she looks at him.

I begin to wonder if maybe I'm just not... enough. For someone, someday, sure. But am I the one Beau needs?

I close my eyes to block my tears and slip on my black converse, wrapping the laces around my ankles tightly.